RtR: Episode two: Can't Fight the Moonlight
by Monet
Summary: Second episode of the series: Faith finds out about a string of mysterious murders


Road to Redemption - a Faith Series (between 4th and 5th season of "BtVS") By: Monet  
  
Episode Two: Can't Fight the Moonlight  
  
Xander Harris stirred in his sleep. The touch of her lips, the feel of her body on his. Yeah, this was the sort of dream he could deal with. He was so used to having her warmth, her presence beside him, he rolled over to drape his arm around Anya's body and ended up smacking hard onto the floor.  
  
That woke him up with a start.  
  
"Ow." he managed to mumble, still not fully out of his sleep. He opened up his eyes and saw his vantage point. He was staring at a crack in a wall across the room.  
  
What room was this?  
  
He raised his head, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. His thoughts finally came together enough to see that he was in an apartment. A very shabby one with hardly any furniture. A couch here, for which he slept on, a fold out table there with two folding chairs, a TV on a drab dresser that still had knobs instead of a remote.  
  
"Ohhh," he moaned, reaching up with his arm and suddenly feeling a sharp pain on his back. He jerked a little with an full-blown "OUCH!"  
  
Then it came back to him: the fight between him and two vampires in which one had a sword and got in a really good shot on his back. His ankle also throbbed with pain from falling numerous times before he finally staked them, saving the two kids who had been this close to being the next vampire food on the menu. Of course, he only fought two.  
  
There had been about 15 inside the crypt which the real warrior ended up defeating. Every single one of them.  
  
He gingerly got to his feet, wondering where this warrior was. She had let him into her apartment to patch him up. For someone who could break him in two, she had pretty gentle hands. He tried not to think about how arousing her simple touch on his bare back had been.  
  
They didn't do much talking afterwards, both very tired. Then she'd headed toward her bedroom and off-handedly told him he could crash there until he found a way to fix his car. He wanted to hesitate, not fully trusting her being in the next room where she could easily pounce on him and finish what she'd started a few years ago.  
  
But he was too damn tired and achy to care.  
  
He flopped down on the couch, bringing his hand up to his head.  
  
The trip had just started - and it was already too weird for words.  
  
One thing was for sure, Xander knew when his welcome was worn out. He stumbled towards the bathroom and began to clean himself up. After a quick wash of his face, he grabbed a towel and began drying his face.  
  
He paused when he noticed how good the towel smelled. Then he realized it was the scent of Faith's shampoo. "Gah," he muttered, quickly putting it back on the rack.  
  
Now was NOT the time to think those kinds of thoughts. He combed his hair as best he could with his hand and wandered back into the open room, lit with the brightness of the afternoon sun.  
  
The bags with all his stuff were in his car, which he had left in a parking lot many, many blocks from here. He sighed then pressed his wrinkled clothes with his hands, making his way towards the door. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the objects next to the door.  
  
His bags.  
  
Studying them, Xander had to wonder for a moment how they had gotten there. Then he knew: Faith must've gone and got them.  
  
"Well, I'll be darned," he mumbled, looking back at her room. He only now noticed the door was wide open and her room was empty. She wasn't here.  
  
He contemplated what to do now. Stay and wait until she got back, or get the hell out of there before she noticed he was gone.  
  
Xander knew what was for the best.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith liked the physical aspect of being a Slayer. It was one thing she knew Buffy Summers had never reveled in when they used to hang out. To be able to do back flips around Olympic gymnasts, to easily outrun a sprinter while out-enduring a long distance runner, even out-benching a weightlifter many times larger than you. She just always wanted some thing to keep her going.  
  
One thing Faith told herself once she was out of jail was that she'd still take on training herself, keeping herself in shape. She'd done it while in jail. So any chance she got, she would go out and run. Run whatever way. Streets she didn't know, through neighborhoods she knew she didn't belong to, past faces and faces of people who would never be able to keep up.  
  
That's where she found herself that afternoon: running. She had already gone in the direction of where Xander had said he had left his car. She had gotten there in record time and decided to grab his stuff from the trunk. She couldn't say what exactly she had to break in order to get into it, though.  
  
But even after she had gotten back to her place and dropped off his stuff, she still had the energy to run around some more.  
  
She found herself on the block where Hannah and Amber lived, the two homeless women she had met only the other night. She slowed down and actually stopped.  
  
"Faith," Hannah called from a window in the abandoned warehouse they camped out in.  
  
Faith spotted her and waved. "Hey," she greeted her.  
  
Hannah was out on the sidewalk within moments, her daughter, Rachel, at her side. The woman who was in her mid thirties smiled at Faith widely. "How are you today?"  
  
"Just taking a jog." She couldn't help but grin down at Rachel, who looked up at her with an innocent smile. "Hey, kid." She patted her head playfully. Then concerned eyes met with Hannah's. "She said anything yet?"  
  
Hannah shook her head. "No," she said, quietly, giving Rachel's hand a quick squeeze.  
  
Faith frowned. From what Hannah had told her, Rachel had been such a chatty 6-year-old, a cheerful, happy-go-lucky child despite the conditions they lived in. Then vampires had taken her away. and suddenly Rachel had gone quiet.  
  
"She'll come around," Faith said. She watched Rachel reach up and take Faith's hand giving it a squeeze.  
  
"That gang won't be around anymore, right?" Hannah asked hopefully.  
  
Faith looked up from Rachel, still holding her hand. "Nah. I took care of all of 'em. You'll all be safe." She paused, contemplating her next few words, but meaning them. "And if you ever come across trouble again, you know where I am, got it?"  
  
The older woman smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said with sincerity.  
  
With a nod, Faith gave Rachel another quick rub on the head and jogged backwards for a bit. "Later." She turned and sprinted away.  
  
* * * * *  
  
After a really good run, Faith arrived back at her apartment. The first thing she noticed was Xander's bags not being where she had left them. She looked up into her shabby living room and saw him not asleep on the couch. Her face fell a little, not knowing why she felt any sort of hurt by finding her apartment empty.  
  
What did she expect?  
  
It wasn't like she wanted him to hang around anyway. The guy was more trouble than he was worth, that was for sure.  
  
"Fuck it," she muttered, going to the fridge and opening it up almost too roughly. She grabbed her Gatorade bottle and popped the lid open and began to guzzle the new bottle down.  
  
That's when the door opened.  
  
Her eyes shifted over to the source and watched as Xander came in with two grocery bags in his arms. He turned and stopped when he saw her there. "Hey," he said, quickly limping to the table and setting the bags on the top.  
  
Faith lowered the bottle and stared at him, not able to hide the surprise. "Hey." She shut the fridge, moving over to the lone table. "What the hell are you still doin' here?" she asked.  
  
"Groceries," he answered, pulling out some items. "You didn't have any breakfast food. not that breakfast food is good at 4 in the afternoon. Actually, you didn't have any food. How's a guy like me supposed to eat?"  
  
"It's called going down the street to the nearest restaurant."  
  
"I barely had enough money in my bags to pay for all this. I actually make a not too bad lasagna. I mean, no one's died from it so far. Always a plus in Sunnydale."  
  
Faith didn't know what to make of what was happening at the moment. Xander, who just yesterday had been asking to be pounded to the ground, was now offering to make dinner? It would've been easier if he had bolted, no worries about what he was going to say to her to make her want to slam him through a wall. "You wanna cook for me?"  
  
He shrugged, folding up the paper bags. "Well, you let me crash on your couch. I figged, you might need some carbs for that Slayer body of yours." He let his eyes roam it for a moment before catching himself. "Uh. right? Need that energy." He grinned too widely and turned around to place the paper bags neatly between the fridge and her stove. "I wanna make myself useful, remember?"  
  
Faith stared at the spread of ingredients he just took out of the bags. "Shit, Xander, you feeding more than just you and me?" There were at least three jars of pasta sauce and more packs of lasagna noodles for more than one dish.  
  
He turned around and peered at what she was referring to. "Oh, yeah. Well, I cook this stuff for Willow and Buffy a lot. And you should see how much Buffy eats." He went back to the table, placing his hands on the back of the fold out chair. "She can finish a whole dish of it, though she holds off all the time 'cause she thinks we'll think 'oink.' Which we don't. I thought. it wouldn't be enough if I did buy for just the two of us."  
  
She blinked at the groceries then back up to him. He actually thought about how much she was going to eat? He was right, of course. She could easily down three burgers in one sitting, though unlike Buffy, she wasn't ashamed to show it. "Okay," she answered simply with a shrug. She turned to go back to her room to change out of her work out clothes. "By the way, hurry up and find a place to stay. This place ain't big enough for the two of us."  
  
Xander stared after her, trying not to show the hurt at her words. He waved at her, brushing it off with little success. That's how she wanted to play it. "Sure thing."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith emerged from her room about two hours later. The aroma of the stuff cooking in the kitchen quickly hit her nose when she walked barefooted out into the living room. She saw Xander taking two pans of lasagna and almost dropping it on the stovetop from the heat. "Ouch!" he yelped, shaking his burnt hand and dropping the dishtowel he was using as a potholder.  
  
He turned when he felt a presence in the room. "Geez. You should make potholders your next kitchen accessory."  
  
"Fuck off," she snapped. She padded over to the table, which was already set with two Styrofoam plates he must've picked up as well.  
  
He fixed their plates and placed them back on the table as she sat down. The television was on in the background, but they were both able to watch from where they sat which was across from each other.  
  
After a few minutes of silence, Xander set down his fork and reached for his cup to drink. "So, how long have you been out?" he asked, taking a gulp.  
  
Faith refused to look up. She really didn't like conversation of late and especially with him. "It's been a couple of weeks," she said, realizing she was way hungrier than she thought. Plus, the stuff was better than she expected.  
  
"I take it Angel or somebody pulled some strings to get you out?" His dark eyes were intently on her, the words pretty hard and to the point, but the tone as casual as if he were asking, "How was your day?"  
  
Faith didn't like it. "Not as much as you think. Can we drop it now?" She returned back to her plate.  
  
"I'm surprised a bulletin wasn't put out at least to Giles," he pressed on.  
  
"Like any of you would care if I was or not," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his.  
  
"Well, we'd care in the way we'd be on alert." He went back to eating.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're never gonna let it go, are you?" she asked, firmly.  
  
"No," he answered, simply.  
  
"Look, I know what I did was wrong, okay? Believe me, I did my dues; I paid the price. I tried to give you guys what you wanted, but Angel wouldn't let me."  
  
Xander looked up again. "What do you mean give us what we wanted?"  
  
She was referring to her downward spiral from the last time she was in Sunnydale. She had learned many things in switching bodies with Buffy. She had learned how much she could've gotten from not only Buffy, but from Willow and Giles and a good, loving mother. And Xander. But she also had to face herself and learned how pathetic she had become, how miniscule her existence was compared to how Buffy's life was.  
  
She arrived in L.A., set on ending it all. Whether it be by cops shooting her down or Angel finishing her off, Faith wanted it done.  
  
But Angel wouldn't allow it. He didn't let her fall. And Faith was faced to meet all her bad deeds. Not only in Sunnydale, but beyond that.  
  
"Nevermind," she muttered.  
  
"Like you'd THINK we'd forget what you did to us, Faith?" he continued. "I heard what went on up here when Buffy came by. She was worried about Deadboy, and she had good reason to be, what with you out there to kill and stuff. And Buffy had good reason to feel the way she did. Seeing you again, it set Buffy off." He paused for a moment, as if not sure what to say or how to say it. "Out of all of us, Faith, Buffy's been the one burned the most."  
  
She slammed her fork down, the table barely able to support the force. "I get that, alright? You don't know what went on exactly. You just hear B's side of the story and make it the damn gospel truth! I tried to say I'm sorry to her, but she wouldn't listen."  
  
"And you think a 'sorry' and a kiss on the boo-boo is gonna fix everything you put her through?" He looked at her more closely. "Do you even know what you did put her through?"  
  
"Would you fucking get off on your high horse? I KNOW what I did, Xander. I get it! And I'm tryin' here. I made goddamn mistakes! I killed! I tried to off all of you! I GOT it. But I don't need someone on my fucking back 24/7 to remind me when I'm trying to forget!"  
  
"That's not of the fair. How come you're trying to forget when we can't do anything but remember?" He stood up, pushing his chair back. "Look, whatever. Things can't change. Things can't be forgotten. I'm gone."  
  
She watched as he went out the door, slamming it behind him. She stared angrily at the door, her emotions running all over the place. She balled her hands into fists, ready to slam them into something. But she stopped herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep, calming breath. She stayed that way for two minutes until she felt herself calm down.  
  
It had been awhile since she'd had to do it. That was when she'd first arrived in jail, when the anger and the pain were fresh.  
  
She was NOT going to let it get into her, not by him. She let out another breath and returned to eating, finishing both dishes.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Let me go!" the potential rapist cried, suddenly fearful of how the tables had been turned. He had been trying to get what he wanted out of a random girl he picked up at a bar. But someone had interrupted, and she looked even hotter than the previous one. But his moves on her suddenly had him fearing for his own life.  
  
"Did you not fucking HEAR me, asshole?" Faith snapped, already not in a good mood from dinner. "What the hell were you gonna DO to me?!" She gripped his neck harder, lifting him a foot off the ground with the one hand. She had found him in the middle of screwing up an innocent girl's life. Although Faith really didn't want to play the heroine, she just couldn't let that happen.  
  
"I-I'm s-sorry," he said, his voice very choked by her grip. He was failing at trying to get her hand off his throat with both his own hands. "I won't do it to you, I swear!"  
  
Staring at his pained place, Faith found her emotions getting the better of her again. Ever since dinner, she knew she was more on edge than usual. "And you think right where we're standing at this very second you COULD do what you wanted?" She chuckled and casually tossed him into a pile of garbage bags, knocking over a trashcan. "Get a safe hobby, you fucking bastard."  
  
The man watched her, eyes wide as she moved out of the alley and turned out of his sight. He couldn't believe what had just happened. His hand rubbed his neck as he let himself not move from his present position for fear she'd come barreling around the corner again and pummel him. He had come across girls who knew self-defense and had left him with a bruised groin area, but this girl was just plain strong.  
  
After three or so minutes, he began to pull himself out of the sea of trash bags. It was a struggle, his hands and feet slipping on the material. When he finally got his footing, a growl let loose above him, making him look up at one of the fire escapes of the building. He didn't have time to react as the creature landed on him.  
  
Teeth tore into his neck, animalistic claws entered into his flesh, and the feeling of fur mixed in as well. He didn't even have a second to scream in pain, call for help - or even pray to himself.  
  
It way, way too late for that.  
  
* * * * *  
  
With hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, Faith listened to her boots hit the pavement as a distraction to calm her anger down. It was still extremely hard to push away the urge to finish off the fight in a permanent way. Who would miss the bastard anyway? But she couldn't do it. She turned another corner, moving down a couple of blocks before nearly running into someone coming out of a local dive. "Sorry," she mumbled.  
  
"It's okay," the guy said. He stepped off to the side and pulled out a cigarette. "Wanna smoke?" he offered.  
  
Faith hadn't taken a smoke in a long while. It wouldn't hurt to have one now. Maybe it would calm her down some. "Yeah, sure."  
  
The guy handed her one and lit it as he puffed away on his. He couldn't have been any older than her age. "You go to college near here?" he asked, his eyes scanning their immediate area.  
  
"Nope," she said, blowing out a stream of smoke. She didn't want any conversation whatsoever, just wanted to smoke in peace. So she left it at that.  
  
And the guy actually let the silence pass for about 10 minutes before he stomped on his cigarette butt. "You should come on in," he said, nodding towards the dive they stood in front of. "Pretty cool place." He didn't say anything more than that and walked right in.  
  
Faith looked up, throwing her cigarette on the ground. She used to hang out at places like this when she was younger and back in Boston. She walked in and immediately scoped the place out. Pool tables, video games, tables with some rough looking people and others who seemed to fall into a more 'happy hour' environment - except at 2 in the morning.  
  
There was a man sitting in a wheel chair, sort of at the bar as best he could, drinking a glass of something. Next to him were two older ladies, ignoring him and talking amongst themselves. Not that he minded. He seemed to be just observing the place.  
  
Faith moved to the bar and sat next to some blond, buxom girl in a barely there skirt who did look like she went to some suburban college. As much as Faith hated the sorority girl vibe she was getting from her, there was no other place to sit. "Yo, bar guy!" she called.  
  
The guy near the cash register, looking a little lost, gave up on figuring out whatever it was and went to her. "What can I.? Faith?"  
  
Faith looked up. "Oh, Jesus, Xander. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Working," he remarked. "I have to earn money somehow," he said. "This place hires pretty much anyone, and since I was around.." He let that sentence finish itself. "I've had some bartending experience back home." He stood there for a moment. "What do you want?"  
  
"I didn't come to see you," she snapped.  
  
"I wasn't asking like that. You called 'bar guy.' I am he. Now I must ask what you want to drink."  
  
"Oh." She felt a teeny bit embarrassed that she'd even thought he'd care what she wanted. "Coke, I guess."  
  
"Ah, the hard stuff," he said. He messed with some stuff under the counter. "I'll be out of your place by tomorrow night," he stated.  
  
"Why so long?" she said, though her voice didn't hold the venom she wanted it to.  
  
"It's taking me awhile to find a weekly hotel where the cockroaches don't rival the dog I had as a kid." He put a can of Coke and an already poured glass in front of her, the bubbles still jumping out of the container. "The other ones were moonlighting as whorehouses. Hmmm. maybe that wouldn't be such a bad living arrangement."  
  
She grabbed the glass and tried to hide the amused smile that left her lips. The guy really had a wicked sense of humor. "You'd just love that, wouldn't you?"  
  
"I'd be in debt all the time." He smiled back, dipping his gaze a bit. "Hey, I'm... sorry about before."  
  
She tried to hide the surprise. "Are ya'," she said evenly, making it sound like less of a question.  
  
"Yeah. It's just. it's hard. I mean, not to say 'sorry,' but to not react -"  
  
"Excuse me," the blond said, trying to signal to Xander.  
  
Xander shifted his eyes over to her. He was quickly captured by her gorgeous looks, his eyes widening a little. "Uh, hi."  
  
Faith almost had the mind to snap at the girl for interrupting until she saw that the girl had fully taken Xander's attention away.  
  
He briefly looked at Faith. "You're okay, right? With the Coke and all?"  
  
She frowned, then nodded with a shrug. "Yeah, sure." She sat there, sipping at her drink while Xander "happily" took the blonde's order. She introduced herself as Stacey. They struck some weird conversation about coming from small towns.  
  
"Where are you from?" Stacey asked, batting her lashes as she played with the drink that had been mixed for her.  
  
"Sunnydale," Xander answered, casually leaning on the counter. "It's kinda nearby. Kinda a boring town, if you ask me."  
  
She giggled. "It definitely sounds like it. And here I thought living in Montana was a big yawn."  
  
"Right. I mean, it's not like a Hellmouth or anything will just pop up and bring in some fun."  
  
That caught her off guard for a moment, and then she burst out into giggles, fully taking it as a silly joke. "Hellmouth? Funny!"  
  
Faith could see him fully entranced by the girl by the smile plastered on his face. It was annoying. Her giggles, his giggles. it about made Faith gag. It was just plain annoying. She downed her drink quickly and dug out some money and slapped it on the counter.  
  
"You leaving?" Xander asked, finally noticing her.  
  
"Gonna play pool," she said, nodding towards the tables in the opposite corner.  
  
"Oh, Stacey, this is Faith," he said, gesturing to her. "She's a local around here."  
  
Stacey smiled at her but Faith didn't move to shake hands or anything. "Nice to meet you," the dark Slayer said with a forced smile.  
  
"Don't leave without letting me know," Xander said. "I still wanna talk to you."  
  
"Why? Things are cool, okay? Just... have fun or something." She waved and turned her back before Xander could respond.  
  
Three guys took the two pool tables each, all drinking beer and mumbling stuff to each other about football or some manly man stuff.  
  
Faith tried not to want to look back at the bar as she approached the first table she saw. "Mind if I join?" she asked, her eyes landing on the familiar face. It was the guy who had given her a cigarette.  
  
The guy grinned. "Not at all." He gestured toward the table. "You can rack it up."  
  
"She's got a nice enough one to do it," one of his buds commented, nudging him.  
  
Faith threw a playful grin at the guy glad to know she still had the boys drooling over her. Tight-ass jeans always went well with a tight ass, she had always thought. "Well, hon, these are probably more rack that you've ever seen in your life." She sauntered her way to the table, gathering the pool balls as the guys all went 'ooo! She got you!' to him.  
  
"Name's Robert," the familiar face said, puffing away at another cigarette. "You play for cash?"  
  
"You think you can beat me?" she asked, a gleam in her eyes.  
  
"I think that's a challenge," he bantered back with a sharp grin on his own.  
  
"Glad to know you know one when you hear it, hon." She set them up and grabbed an extra stick. "Okay, boys, let's play."  
  
And for the rest of the night, she didn't look back at the bar, just enjoyed herself with the three strangers who ended being not all that bad.  
  
That was the reason she didn't notice the man in the wheelchair rolling out to follow Xander and Stacey as Xander's first shift ended...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Faith sat at the kitchen table just as the 2 o'clock sun blared through the windows. Her apartment was quiet, and she could hear the cars passing by outside. She looked towards the two biggest windows of her small apartment, not realizing her eyes had drifted to the empty couch where Xander's pillow and small blanket sat.  
  
He hadn't come back last night.  
  
The bedroom door opened and a rough looking Robert came out, scratching his head. "Man, what time is it?" he asked.  
  
"Two," Faith said, evenly. "Afternoonish." Not really knowing why, she suddenly felt uneasy with him there at her place. She had slept with him, a quick romp in the sack before he passed out and she soon joined him. She thought the sex would clear her mind of the thoughts that had been floating around, do the guy then toss him out - it was how it always was. "You need to go," she stated, not looking at him.  
  
"What?" Robert asked, blinking at her. "I just got up. What, am I your one- night stand?" It wasn't playful or anything. "Is there a boyfriend that you just didn't tell me about that lives here?"  
  
"No... it was just. it was a mistake, okay?" she admitted. "I got a little drunk, yadda, yadda, yadda and it happened."  
  
Robert frowned deeper. "You sure as hell didn't seem drunk to me while we were doing it."  
  
Faith didn't think he would understand. How could he? "Look, I had fun last night. But. I'm not ready for this yet."  
  
"I'm not asking your hand in marriage. Geez. It was all good fun, yeah, but you can't just kick me out like yesterday's trash."  
  
Faith looked up at him, trying to not get angry at his attitude. He had a right to feel this way, but by her doing this, it would save him from getting any more pissed off than he already was. "I don't really need to explain myself to you, okay? If you leave now, it'll be better for the both of us, trust me on this."  
  
Robert stared at her a moment then shrugged. "Alright," he said, voice calmed suddenly. "I'll see you again? Maybe tomorrow night, same place?"  
  
"I'll see."  
  
"Right." He glanced into the living room, noting everything in it as he went into her bedroom and grabbed his stuff. He looked at her once before going right out the door.  
  
Faith kicked the chair across from her, making it fly all the way across the room, clattering loudly onto the floor. She sat there, hand to her forehead, fingers intertwined into her brown locks. This was the part she feared the most. In jail, the relationships were easier to avoid because first of all, they were all female and secondly, they were all bitches. Without the relationships, guys to bang, sex to fill that after action rush, finding her peace was easier.  
  
Outside the walls, however, it just wasn't that easy and dealing with this subject was something Faith never had to think about before.  
  
The door opened, and Xander walked in with a newspaper in his hand. "Hey," he said, stifling a yawn.  
  
"Hey," she said, straightening up. "Finally got home, didja?"  
  
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "You mean, I beat you?" he asked.  
  
"Actually." She was about to tell him about Robert just leaving, but something decided it was none of Xander's business. "Yeah, I guess you did. But don't get a damn big head about it."  
  
"Don't worry." He looked around the table, wanting to join her. "Um, where's the chair?"  
  
Faith nodded across the room. "Down there."  
  
He looked at her for a moment as if he knew exactly what had happened, but just got the folding chair and sat down in it without a word. He spread opened the newspaper. "Did you have fun last night? I saw you hobnobbing with the regulars."  
  
"Yeah. I did. I got about 300 bucks out of it. Didn't think you'd notice, you starin' at that chick's chest the whole time."  
  
Xander peeked over the top of the paper. "It was a nice chest," he remarked. He then looked back at the paper. "But she really is a nice girl. She goes to the college that's a few miles from here."  
  
"So was the sex good?" Faith asked bluntly.  
  
"Huh?" He lowered the paper. "Um, well, in my mind it would've been, but alas it was one of those 'first sorta-date, let's just talk' sort of time."  
  
"So this whole time you were just chatting?"  
  
"Yep. Told you I come from a boring small town." He grinned before returning to the paper. "But we're going to see each other tonight before my shift."  
  
"You are?" Faith asked, a knot in her stomach. She shook it off, not even wondering why it appeared with those words. "Thought you were over the whole blond, busty type."  
  
"I'll never get over the busty type," he said from behind the paper.  
  
She leaned back in her seat, staring at him without him noticing. She didn't know what to make of him at the moment. Just the other night, they had been yelling at each other, storming off from the table. Now, they were talking like it had been no big. Giving up on trying to figure him out, she eyed him more closely. "What're you doing?"  
  
"Finding a place to stay for the rest of the summer." He folded it up and sighed. "You know, get out of your hair. But things are slim. Down to two whorehouses and one with a swing in each room." He leaned back in his chair. "Maybe cockroaches won't make such bad pets. Although, the swings could make very good relaxation tools." His eyes were caught by something else on the front of the paper. "Whoa. Look at this. Two people were killed by some wild animal the other night."  
  
She had overheard Robert and some of his pals talking about it while they were playing pool. "Yeah, so?"  
  
He looked up from the article. "Oh, I just. I guess I'm used to being suspicious about deaths and stuff."  
  
"It's L.A. Death is a part of life 'round here."  
  
"By wild animals?"  
  
"You want me to investigate or something? Sorry, but that ain't my style."  
  
With a quick pause, he shook his head. "Nah. I mean, do you what you want. Probably some Rotweiler that got away or something." He set the pushed the paper aside, regarding her carefully. "Um. are you sure we're cool?"  
  
So the guy did remember the apology he'd started before Stacey Does Dallas had come onto the scene. "Hey, one thing I learned in the slammer is I gotta let things roll off my back," she said. "Look, Xander, I've tried to change. And now's the test to find out if I have, okay? I just know I've learned a whole shit load of things." She sat up straighter, the energy of the new day finally getting to her. "We got issues, both of us."  
  
"Boy, do we," he murmured. But he took in her words. "I usually say what I feel when I'm mad."  
  
"Dude, I say whatever I wanna say, pissed off or not."  
  
"Yeah, but when you argue with a Slayer, at least you can defend yourself instead of counting just how many bones would actually be broken if you went too far." He grinned. "I counted all of them last time I gave Buffy a piece of my mind."  
  
She laughed, not able to help it. For someone so goofy, he did have some hard courage in him. The mention of the other Slayer's name however calmed her down a bit. She tilted her head slightly. "This is fucking weird but. how's B doing?"  
  
"She's. good. Everyone is, actually. Well, everyone who's not Xander, that is."  
  
"Was it really that bad for you there?"  
  
"Not bad in the sense that my life belongs in the French sewers, but. the girls are off to college, being themselves, meeting new people - and did you know Willow has a girlfriend?"  
  
Faith laughed again. "You didn't see that coming?"  
  
"You did? When?"  
  
"When I was." She stopped herself before she totally brushed the explanation off as a regular day at the Bronze instead of when she was in Buffy's body, causing trouble with Willow's girl. "I just did. I thought you were on summer vacay? You ain't even in school."  
  
"It's summer. I'm on vacation from my Sunnydale life. It's summer vacay." He sighed, trying to look pathetic.  
  
"Lay off that game, Xand," she said. "You can't do 'angst-ridden teen' movie if you tried. C'mon." She stood up.  
  
"Where are we going?" he asked.  
  
"You made me dinner. And you were right, I downed both dishes. For that, I owe you lunch or something. Plus, I got 300 bucks to blow."  
  
"I really should be visiting some of these places," he said, pointing to the paper. "You can come 'cause from some of these neighborhoods listed, I might need a bodyguard."  
  
Faith turned and looked at him. Bodyguard. right. "Tell you what," she said. "You don't piss me off anymore, and you don't have to leave that soon. Take your time, get yourself a pretty good place without swings, unless you dig that sort of stuff."  
  
"I prefer it self-installed," he said with a small grin. But the offer of her apartment took him by surprise. "You sure?"  
  
She shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
Xander couldn't seem to find the words, for once. But he tried. "Um, I can't promise I won't piss you off, though." His voice was mostly jokingly. Mostly.  
  
She walked towards her bedroom door. "Hell, it'll make things interesting, then."  
  
He only stared after her as she went back into her room to change.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The two of them hung out at the nearest pizza place, sitting outside as the afternoon sun began to take its journey behind the horizon. They did just small chit-chat about various things, most of the time just sitting in silence.  
  
One thing that stuck out in Faith's mind, however, was how. comfortable it felt. They observed the people around them, making comments, sometimes mentioning if they'd "do" them or not. They coined it "The To Do" List Game. It was actually fun.  
  
Faith couldn't help but feel eyes on them, though. She'd been feeling them since they had left her place. And she didn't like it. But she knew where it was coming from: the strange man in the wheelchair sitting off at a far table. Faith would take a gulp of her drink and steal a look to see if he was still there - and he was. "What time are you supposed to meet the chick?" she asked, putting down her drink.  
  
"In about an hour," he answered. "Somewhere near her dorm. I think it's about ten blocks from here. I might be bus bound. I got some pretty good tips last night." He grinned. "Could've actually paid for the two pizzas you ate."  
  
Faith mocked a glare at him. "Dude, I may be able to chow down on one whole one, but don't over exaggerate." She pointed to him, threateningly - without the threat.  
  
He put his hands up in mock defense. "Hey, just calling them how I see 'em." He checked his watch. "I better get going. Who knows how long it'll take to get there, especially since I'm not even sure." Standing, he slightly bowed to Faith. "Thanks for the pizza."  
  
"No prob. Hope you have fun." She watched as he gave her a departing grin and went down the sidewalk, a slight hop in his step. She kept her eyes on him until he rounded the corner. She actually was glad he was happy. but at the same time.  
  
"Holy shit," she whispered to herself. With her eyes still in the direction he left in, she spotted the man in the wheelchair rolling in the same direction. So it wasn't THEM he was following; it was XANDER.  
  
Faith stood up and threw down enough money to cover everything. She grabbed her jacket and followed after the guy.  
  
It was hard to follow after him, too. He already had a car and she had. well, nothing. She watched as he got into a white van with someone behind the wheel waiting for him, and they took off. Faith frowned, looking around to find out how she could follow him before he could do what he wanted to Xander.  
  
Hotwire? No, she had to be good. She couldn't draw attention to herself from the authorities. With a sigh, she walked a few more feet and waited for the bus.  
  
* * * *  
  
Faith scanned the campus. This was the only college near here so this had to be the place. She began walking, finding any indication of where dorms would be. There weren't many college kids walking around. Then again, it didn't seem like that busy of a school; it was a small one, not UCLA status.  
  
She hunched into her jacket as the sun began to lower behind the horizon. The darker it became, the more Faith's Slayer senses flared. Maybe the best thing to do was just find Xander first, make sure him and his girl were safe before wheelchair guy got to him.  
  
She continued to walk, her eyes searching the open area, and she landed on the familiar van that wheelchair stalker had gotten into. In fact, he was rolling towards a building about two blocks from where they were. That had to be the dorms.  
  
Faith quickened her pace, knowing a sneak attack would be better. There was a part of her that felt guilty about chasing down a handicapped person. But she was there to stop a threat. And he was definitely posing one.  
  
She passed the van, seeing that it was empty. She took a quick peek inside to see if she could find out what the guy was doing there. It was pretty empty, not much in there - except she spotted a shotgun lying in the back with about two others. Guns weren't something you roamed around with unless you planned to use them.  
  
She tried to turn around only to find heavy hands shoving her against the van. Her cheek smacked against the window as they pinned her there. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the guy sneaking up behind her.  
  
"Listen, you punk kid. There's no way I'm letting you jack this car," came a deep voice from behind. It definitely sounded like it was coming from a very large man.  
  
Faith gritted her teeth, not having any time for this. "I wasn't gonna jack your van," she stated. This must've been the driver she'd seen before. She bent her elbows so that her hands pressed against the van and back head- butted his face.  
  
The hands let go as he grunted in pain and she turned around to face him. "Wow, you are a big guy," she said, seeing that he stood at least 6'5 and over 210lbs. Probably in his mid to late thirties.  
  
"Stupid girl!" the man cried, holding his nose.  
  
"Aw, I'm suddenly stupid?" She kicked him in the gut, knocking him off his feet and onto the grass.  
  
The man in the wheelchair had been close enough to have heard the scuffle. He turned his wheelchair around to face them in curiosity.  
  
"What's you and your pal following my friend for, huh?" she asked.  
  
The man was doubled over in pain, trying to get to his knees. He managed to get to his feet and glare at her for doing that to him. "None of your business," he snapped. He reached out for her, only to get both his wrists clamped by two powerful grips, stopping him short.  
  
"No, see, this IS my business. I don't know you. But I know you aren't gonna do friendly things to him once you do get to him." She squeezed at both wrist bones, trying to get him on his knees in mercy. She liked them begging for it.  
  
But the man was large and seemed to have a great threshold for pain. He bit back the notice of his bones grinding together and placed a large boot into Faith's stomach, shoving her back and away from him.  
  
"Stop this!" wheelchair guy finally cried.  
  
But as Faith lost footing and fell onto her butt, the fight was getting more into her veins and there was nothing else around her. She glared hard at her opponent as he rubbed his wrists gingerly. She got to her feet and rushed him in a quick sprint, grabbing him by the waist and knocking them over.  
  
They rolled until a tree stopped them, smacking her hard in the side. "Fuck!" she muttered to herself. But she turned them over once more so that she was on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning back his muscular arms to the ground.  
  
He struggled under her grip, not getting why he couldn't break her hold. "I don't want to do this," he growled. "But I can't let you hurt him."  
  
"Hurt who? If anything, you're trying to hurt me." She smirked. "Betcha like where you are right now, too."  
  
"Who are you?" the man asked, ignoring her remark and still trying against her.  
  
"Look, you motherfu-" But she was cut short when she was thrown off of him in another tackle by something else very large - and very furry. She tumbled to the ground as she felt claws penetrating her jacket and digging deeply into her flesh. The thing was strong, but Faith wanted to prove she didn't give a shit about that.  
  
She managed to get her boots underneath the creature's abdomen and kicked if off her with all her might. She watched as it was thrown about 20 feet back and hit a tree with tremendous force, shaking the branches.  
  
But it only dazed the wolf-like creature. It shook its head and glared at Faith with yellow eyes.  
  
Faith got to her feet, blood seeping from the scrapes on her arms. "What the hell is that?" she asked, mainly herself. It only took a moment before she was jumping out of the way as the thing ran at her again. She threw herself to the side, doing one graceful tumble that led her back on her feet. She saw that it had changed directions in no time and was already on top of her again.  
  
She kept its jaws away from her neck. "Dude, you gotta find a Listerine strip or something." She punched it in what served as its cheek, not even dazing it. So she punched it again and again, until the creature began to feel it.  
  
It finally pulled itself off of her, growling and shaking its head. It looked directly at her then howled once before trotting off into the depths of the campus.  
  
Faith got to her feet and tried to follow it, but it had already used the shadows as its disappearing act. "Fuck," she muttered, punching the U.S. mailbox next to her in frustration. It formed a well-sunken crater, making her frown deeper. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed anything, but it was as barren as the desert.  
  
Making her way back to where she had left big guy and the van, she was further disappointed to see the van was gone along with wheelchair guy and Mr. Bodyguard. She had a bad feeling about it and sprinted towards the dorms, looking around for both the creature feature and the van.  
  
The two were connected; there was no doubt about that.  
  
Maybe Wheelchair Dude and his bodyguard also had a pet.  
  
Faith went up to a side door of the dorm and tried to pull it open. It needed a card to get in, as there was a scanner box off to side of it. "Screw that," she muttered, jerking the door harder and hearing the metal that kept it locked falter under her force. She slipped in and looked around the stairway area, not having a clue even where to start finding the girl's dorm. Stacey was her name, yes, but what was her last name?  
  
It was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.  
  
Faith had always hated that cliche. She took the steps three at a time and went into the second floor hall. She quickly walked down it, looking at the names of each door until one said Stacey.  
  
A door opened down the hall and a red-haired girl came out, locking her door. She stared at Faith. "Oh, God," she breathed, looking her over.  
  
"Hey," Faith called to her. "I'm looking for someone."  
  
"What happened to you?" she asked, noticing the rips on the sleeves of Faith's jacket and the blood.  
  
"Oh." Faith looked at her arm. "Um, tussled with my boyfriend."  
  
"God, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah. But. I need to find someone. Chick named Stacey. I don't know her last name."  
  
"Luckily, she's the only Stacey in this dormitory. She's out on a date, I heard. That's not your. boyfriend is it? The one she's on a date with? Stacey doesn't seem like the type to steal someone's boyfriend from another on purpose."  
  
Faith smirked at the thought. Like anyone could think about stealing anything from her - and succeed. "Nah. He's. my brother. Yeah, she's out on a date with him, and I need to tell him some family stuff."  
  
"Oh. Well, she said they were going out tonight. She lives on the fourth floor. Come on, I'll show you." The girl led Faith up more stairs onto the correct floor. Though Faith would've just settled for a quick direction to it, she wasn't going to knock the help. "She's down this way."  
  
Just as they got there, Xander came out of the door shutting it behind him. He stood there a moment, running his hands through his hair in thought before he turned to see them coming. "Faith," he said in surprise.  
  
Faith was relieved to see he was okay. "Hey. we need to go."  
  
"Huh? Why?"  
  
"Uh..." The girl was still standing there, watching them expectantly. Faith really wanted to tell her to leave. Instead, she locked arms with Xander, starting to pull him away. "F-Family shit."  
  
"Family? I didn't know you had-"  
  
"'WE,' bro. Our family."  
  
"We? Bro?" He read her statement as her eyes darted towards the girl. "Oh. yeah. Um, family. Oh, gosh, what did Uncle George do this time?" He looked back and smiled at the red-haired girl.  
  
"Where's Stacey?" she asked. "Is she okay?"  
  
"She wasn't feeling too well," Xander replied with a shrug. "I told her I'd call her later on tonight." But he couldn't say anything more as Faith pulled him towards the door even faster.  
  
They pattered down the stairs, the echoes of their footsteps filling the hollow stairway.  
  
"What's going on?" Xander asked as they went outside. He noticed the rips in her jacket sleeves. "Had a rough night already? I only left you two hours ago."  
  
"I know. I had a run in with some furry son-of-a-bitch. It's no big. Not right now, at least." Her senses were still on full alert. "We gotta get you outta here."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Someone's following you."  
  
"Huh?" He looked around almost in mock excitement. "Is it a horde of available women?"  
  
She couldn't help the grin. "You wish your ass it was. It's some dude in a wheelchair, his bodyguard wannabe, and his pet wolf."  
  
Xander's eyes widened. "Pet wolf? Why would they be after me?"  
  
"You tell me. Maybe they followed you from Sunnydale. I'm sure you made some major enemies just hiding in the shadows."  
  
"Not me. Buffy, maybe. And if I did, why a guy in a wheelchair, his pet, and his bodyguard?"  
  
"Weirder shit has happened," she remarked as they waited for the bus.  
  
"Can't argue with that."  
  
* * * * *  
  
They made it back to her apartment safely and soundly, without a wheelchair or van in sight. Faith took off her jacket as they closed the door behind them, staring at the scratches on her arms. They had been deep, but they were already healed pretty well. "I keep this up, I won't have any jackets left."  
  
Xander looked out the window then back at her. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.  
  
She nodded. "Yeah. Just a few scratches." She sneered at the wounds and shrugged it off. "I heal quick."  
  
"I know." He walked over to the couch and flopped down. "Great. You were just attacked by what sounds like a werewolf. I think I got enough of that back in Sunnydale."  
  
Faith walked over and sat next to him, trying not to sound as worried as she was. She didn't know what to do now. Go hunt the thing down? It was her first real option. "You think it was a werewolf?"  
  
"You're the one who got attacked by it. You tell me. Did it look familiar? Like in an Oz-familiar?"  
  
Faith recalled the image of the creature, though it really was just flashes of its yellow eyes and its jaws. "That's not Oz, is it?"  
  
"I don't think so," Xander murmured. "But. we haven't seen the guy since he left the second time." He tapped his finger on the armrest. "We have something missing here."  
  
Faith looked over at him. "What is it?"  
  
"Brains," he stated.  
  
She nodded, slumping further in the couch. "Oh, right." When it came to the thinking portion of fighting, they weren't the two best people for the job. It almost made her laugh. "Maybe we should call Angel or something. Get Wes on the phone?"  
  
Xander's eyes shifted to her. "You really want to do that?"  
  
"I sure as fuck don't."  
  
He stared back at the turned off TV in front of them. "So those dog attacks in the paper, not a Rotweiler we're dealing with. Uh... what do we do now?"  
  
"Chill, I guess. Make sure they aren't around here. I'll go out later on tonight. I gotta check on a few things anyway." She propped her feet up on the coffee table. "What happened to the date?"  
  
Xander shrugged. "I don't know. I got there a little late, though. Mr. Bus Driver wasn't exactly Mr. Fast Driver. I was trying to call her through the calling thingy at the front of the dorm and she wasn't answering. Then when she finally did, she didn't sound so good." He sighed, also propping his feet on the rickety table. "She thinks it's the food from the dining hall."  
  
"Sorry to hear that," Faith murmured.  
  
"I'll call her later on tonight. Night's still young, and I told her we might be able to meet each other, maybe take her over to the bar before my shift."  
  
"Oh." Her eyes shifted downward to her twiddling thumbs. Why did him telling her that make her stomach churn? What the hell was wrong with that? "Cool. But I should make sure. coast is clear and shit before you leave."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Xander remarked with a mock salute. She punched him playfully in the arm, only to hear him grunt in pain. "Arm. hurts." he whispered.  
  
"Sorry, dude," she said, though showed him a satisfied smirk. She stood up.  
  
"Where you going?"  
  
"Don't worry. Not far. To my room to change."  
  
He quirked a brow. "Can I watch?" he teased. "Only if you're bad." She winked and moved toward her room passing by a window. She stopped, staring out into the sky. "Hey, Xander."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Oz, he was only wolf-boy on full moons, right?"  
  
"Yeah. We'd lock him up for three nights in the cage."  
  
"I remember," she murmured. She had watched over him once. "I don't know, then, what the hell attacked me. It's not a full moon tonight."  
  
"It's not?" Xander joined her at the window, both dark eyes staring at a quarter moon. "Oh. Uh. you sure it wasn't a big black bear?"  
  
"I'm fucking sure! It wasn't black, first of all. And I know a bear when I fight one." She sighed, taking one quick scan of the area below. No white van in sight. "I think we'll be okay here until you gotta meet the chick."  
  
"Her name's Stacey," Xander added with a grin.  
  
"You can call her Martha Stewart for all I care. You met her, I follow you to make sure wheelman ain't hanging around, then I go find answers."  
  
"You sure you don't need help? I can tell Stacey to just wait until another time."  
  
Faith considered his words for only a moment then dismissed it. "I'm cool." The thought was almost appealing, but Xander wouldn't be of any help any more than she was to herself. She had to find some other source of information other than asking Angel for help.  
  
* * * * *  
  
With Xander off to meet Stacey, to Faith's somewhat dismay, the Slayer walked around to make sure she didn't see anything suspicious. Some part of her just wanted to hang around and see just how special this Stacey was that Xander was so smitten about. But. why did she care?  
  
"I don't," she told herself as she strolled towards Hannah's block. Even though it was 10 at night, she, Amber, and another friend of theirs were gathered around a fire in the alley next to their warehouse. They seemed to be enjoying each other's company, laughing as if life was purely good to them.  
  
The first one to notice Faith was Rachel, who sat at her mother's side playing with some rocks she found. She looked up and smiled, tugging on Hannah's sleeve.  
  
"Faith," Hannah called as the Slayer approached them. "How are you tonight?"  
  
"Okay," Faith said, squatting to Rachel's level and holding out her hand to the girl, revealing a small doll she had picked up at a gift shop on the way there.  
  
Rachel grinned widely and took it, hugging it tightly. It was the first new thing she had seen in a long time.  
  
"How lovely," Hannah said, smiling. "Thank you."  
  
Faith didn't have to ask how the talking was coming along as Rachel did not say anything, though her gratitude shone brightly by the look on her face. "I need your help," she said to Hannah. "Can we talk?"  
  
"Yes, of course." She nodded to Amber who understood to watch over Rachel. She followed the young Slayer a little ways off to the side. She looked at Faith attentively. "What is it? Are you in trouble?"  
  
"Oh, no. Well, not really. More like, my friend is."  
  
"The boy you're with." She smiled. "I see you two walking a lot together. He's really cute."  
  
Faith half-smirked. "He's got charm, I'll give him that."  
  
Hannah shook her head, her own knowing smile on her face. "I think you'd give him more. And I think he'd give you the same."  
  
"No fucking way. He's got his own thang going and . me and him don't got good history together." Understatement. She quickly changed the subject. "I know you weren't surprised when you found out that vamps were the ones that took Rachel, right?"  
  
"No. Not really. I thought it strange."  
  
"Well, now we got some big-ass dog and his owner trying to track down my friend. Do you know anything about werewolves?"  
  
She let out a small gasp. "A werewolf? Oh. I knew there were strange maulings a few blocks from here. You think it's from a werewolf?"  
  
"Well, I dunno. I'm not exactly in the brains category. I need. information. I mean, besides beating up Dave - he ain't much help."  
  
"No. I know of someone who can help you." She gestured for Faith to follow her. "He's a bookshop keeper I came to be friends with. He seemed to have known about the vampires and tried to help me. But he couldn't and was called away for something. Which is why I sent you to Dave instead of him. Paul is someone you don't need to beat up." She smiled.  
  
They walked about three blocks down, turned to the right, and down four more blocks to a small bookshop in a "nicer" part of the neighborhood. The lights were off, except for the ones in the very back, indicating to Hannah Paul was in. She slowly pushed open the door. "Paul?" she called.  
  
"I'm back here, Hannah. Come in, please. Oh, and I received that book you wanted me to order. It's on the counter."  
  
"Wonderful," Hannah breathed, looking towards the counter. "I have a visitor who needs your help."  
  
"Bring them back here."  
  
Hannah nodded to Faith. "I'll join you in a minute."  
  
"No prob," Faith said. She made her way through the stacks of books. Books. Always a good sign of information. She liked this place already. But her smile disappeared when she walked into the back room where a man sat behind a desk. in a wheelchair. She stopped short at the doorway.  
  
The man looked up, blinking. "Hello, there."  
  
Without warning, Faith stalked over to him and pulled him literally out of his wheelchair in anger, knocking the chair over. "It's YOU," she snapped, holding him up in both her hands by his shirt. His useless legs dangled helplessly.  
  
Paul stared at Faith in horror. "Wh-What. I-I don't understand. I." Then recognition over took as he stared at her more. "Oh... no."  
  
Hannah quickly rushed to the scene, seeing Faith with Paul. "Oh, goodness. What's going on? Faith, don't hurt him, please!"  
  
"Don't hurt him?" Faith snapped, looking back at her. "This motherfucker tried to kill me with his bodyguard and his stupid pet!" She turned back to him. "Didn't you?" She gripped him harder, pulling him even closer to meet her menacing look.  
  
"No, you've got it all wrong," Paul said.  
  
"Do I? It wasn't YOU who's been following my friend all day today? You weren't at that bar he works at last night? And today at the pizza place?" She lifted him higher, giving a little shake. "Answer me!"  
  
"Faith!" Hannah cried becoming scared at Faith's sudden actions.  
  
"No, it's true," Paul replied, holding up his hand to Hannah. "She's got every right to blame me. I'm sorry. I wasn't sure. I was trying to help you."  
  
"By what? Sending out your bodyguard on me? Then your pet on steroids?"  
  
"You were near my van. He thought you were trying to break in while he was scoping the area. It's been broken into a lot." He stared at her, frowning. "And you shouldn't be one to talk about anything on steroids."  
  
Faith sneered even more at his accusation, though she couldn't blame him. "You worry about your own ass before you worry about what I'm on."  
  
"Your friend is in danger. The girl he's with. The college girl. She's dangerous. We've been trying to find out what's causing all these strange maulings, and we've narrowed it down to her."  
  
"Stacey?"  
  
"If that's her real name. I'll explain, but you have to put me down."  
  
"Faith, just listen to him, please," Hannah pleaded. "He's harmless. Trust me."  
  
Faith met with Hannah's gaze, seeing the fear in them. Suddenly, Faith felt ashamed that she had exerted so much force so quickly. With her foot, she brought the wheelchair back upright and lowered him back into it, backing away.  
  
Paul straightened up his shirt and tried to calm his own fears down. He wheeled towards the desk, resting his arms on them. "Please, have a seat."  
  
"I'm standing, thanks."  
  
"Alright. Faith, is it? I know you aren't a bad person. Hannah has told me a lot about you. I just didn't. put two and two together when I was following your friend." He straightened some papers on his desk. "I've been following some weird cases in this area. Hannah had mentioned vampires while I was away on some research. It's not a first here."  
  
"It's not?"  
  
"No. But they usually keep away from this area. I guess they wandered in. The gang you stopped. In any case, I was away to find out more about lycanthropy."  
  
"What the hell is that?"  
  
"Um, the condition of people who turn into werewolves."  
  
"What's to study? You find, you cage 'em up on full moons. Done that before."  
  
"You've dealt with werewolves before?" He looked at her curiously.  
  
"Buddy, I've dealt with a lot of things that would scare you shitless. Werewolves were the least of 'em."  
  
"Well, not this one." He pulled out a paper, looking over it as he spoke. "Stacey has perfected the art of being a werewolf."  
  
"Perfected?"  
  
"Yes. At first, the maulings matched those of any other werewolf. The deaths would only occur at night, and it only happened for three days. But then as she moved further north to the city, the deaths occurred outside the three nights of the full moon. Then two happened in the daytime." He looked up at Faith. "So I looked around, did more research, and found that there are ways that one can control the werewolf inside them. Hypnotism, some herbs. spells, even."  
  
Faith continued to stare at Paul, taking in all the information.  
  
"That's horrible," Hannah said. "And she does this on purpose? Turn into a werewolf and kill people?"  
  
"I'm not sure if she can control herself when she is in wolf form. But she knows what will occur when it happens. In some ways, that is control." He met Faith's gaze again. "When we narrowed it down to Stacey, we followed her around."  
  
"How'd you figure it was her?" Faith asked.  
  
"All the deaths had some connection to her. Three were old boyfriends. Two were former girlfriends of two of the boyfriends. Two others were rumored to be those she liked but could not get with. It sounds all so childish, but the end results weren't. For awhile when we tracked her all the way here, nothing happened. Then a few nights ago, two males were found dead. Then another one in an alley last night. All three had a record of raping various women in the past."  
  
"Well, I ain't a former anything to her, and if that was her, and not your pet dog, she sure wasn't gentle with me."  
  
"Maybe. she knew you were friends with the boy? We don't know her motives, exactly. But she has to be stopped. I think I've found a spell that can cure her of whatever she holds to control the transformation, returning her to only being a regular werewolf."  
  
Faith frowned deeply, the words finally striking her. "Shit," she muttered, her arms slowly uncrossing. "Xander."  
  
"That's your friend, right? The boy?"  
  
"Yeah, 'the boy.' And the bitch is gonna kill him!" She moved past Hannah towards the front of the store, worry striking her all over again.  
  
"Wait!" Paul called, rolling out from behind the desk and following her out. "Do you know where they are?"  
  
"Yeah! A place a few blocks from that bar they met at."  
  
"I'll get Brandon to drive us there."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Paul pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Brandon, get the van up front. I think I know where to find her." He pressed the 'end' button. "Let me grab the book and needed materials while we wait. It won't take long."  
  
Faith let out a frustrated sigh, seconds ticking away. "Hannah, go back to your block and bring Rachel and everyone in. We'll handle this."  
  
Hannah nodded in understanding and took the book Paul had given her then rushed out of the store.  
  
Paul wheeled out from the back room, a bag in his lap. He led her out of the store, locking it behind him and they both stood/sat there. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot," he said.  
  
"Whatta mean? We're not off any foot yet," she stated, staring up and down the street. "Just 'cause Hannah trusts you, doesn't mean I do. But it helps that she does."  
  
"Otherwise I would've been a part of the ceiling, I take it." He nodded. "Well, like I said, you have every right. I'm just curious; you fought the werewolf. It's been known to do a lot of damage, but you handled it more than well from what I could see."  
  
"I told you, I've dealt with things like that. Funny thing is you don't seemed surprised about weird shit like this, though."  
  
Paul continued to sit there patiently, as Faith became even more the opposite. "No. Unfortunately, I took it on myself to open my eyes to the supernatural, and do something about it. I used to be able to do more in my younger days. I couldn't fight as well as you, but I have done some in my days."  
  
"Is that why you're in that thing?" She looked down on him.  
  
Paul looked at his legs. "Yes." But he chose not to elaborate as the familiar van pulled up to the sidewalk. The driver, Brandon, quickly got out and stopped short when he saw who was with Paul. But Paul quickly held up a hand. "She's okay. She won't hurt us - I think."  
  
"Like I always tell people, don't piss me off, and I won't."  
  
Brandon didn't let up on his suspicious glare, but opened up the van for them. When everyone was settled, Faith reluctantly in the front seat, Brandon shifted the van into drive. "Where to?" he asked, looking at Paul through the rearview.  
  
"She'll let you know where," Paul informed him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Xander and Stacey sat in a park bench, near where they had agreed to meet. She cuddled close to him, rubbing his arm gently. "Thanks for meeting me again, Xander," she said.  
  
"Well, thanks for showing up again," he said with a smile.  
  
"Of course, I'll show up. Anything for you."  
  
"You're feeling okay then?"  
  
"Yeah. Just the food, like I said." She sighed, wincing a little.  
  
"I saw the bruise on your cheek. What happened?" His voice was filled with worry as he leaned his head back to take a better look.  
  
"I fell. And I don't mean it in a 'someone's abusing me' fall. I really did. Something smacked me on the way down." But she lifted her head up. "But don't worry about me, Xander. I heard your sister came to get you when you left me."  
  
"Sister? Oh! You mean. yeah, her."  
  
"Is she the girl at the bar? The one who went to play pool?"  
  
"Yeah. She's just. a friend of mine. But very sisterly, indeed," he lied.  
  
"You do know, all men are all the same, right?" she whispered, nuzzling his neck. "They say they'll be with you forever, then they run."  
  
Xander shifted uneasily, her nuzzling growing a bit forceful. "Uh. okay, well, I don't tend to run too fast," he joked. "Stacey, can we take it down a notch?"  
  
"I don't want to take it down," she whispered. "I want you so bad. But I know you'll hurt me."  
  
"What?" Xander pushed her away firmly, holding her by each arm. This behavior was sudden. "What? No, Stacey. I'm not gonna do that. What makes you think that?"  
  
"Because you like her," she said, her eyes innocent but holding something menacing behind them. "That 'sister' of yours."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, now. No. I mean, yeah, she's letting me stay at her place until I find one for myself but." He stopped himself, realizing that probably wasn't the best thing to stay. "Stacey, listen, my shift is about to start in 15 minutes so let's not fight, okay?"  
  
"Fight?" she asked, a smile spreading across her face. "But Xander, it's exactly why I agreed to meet you here in this area where there aren't very many people around. I guess they didn't teach you that in Sunnydale, did they?"  
  
Xander smiled sheepishly. "You'd think I'd learn by now." He hopped to his feet, the bad vibe growing tenfold. Then he watched in dreadfulness as her features began to distort. Her mouth stretched impossibly forward, eyes growing yellow, teeth growing longer than any vampire's. "It's not a full moon!" he cried.  
  
"You learn to live with yourself and deal with anyone who's tried to hurt you in the past," she growled before she tore out of her clothes and into full wolf form.  
  
"GAH!" Xander yelled, back peddling a few steps before turning around and running for his life. "Why do I pick these kind of girls??" He ran as hard as his legs could carry him, almost stumbling over a stray trashcan. He took a moment to bend over the empty can and toss it at her. It banged loudly from her huge paw knocking it easily aside. "Okay, never worked before." He continued to run, trying to go towards his place of work. At least he knew people would be there.  
  
He could practically hear her breathing behind him. He skidded around a corner and found himself in an alley. "Why don't I just have big breasts and blond hair and a tight dress, and it'll make more sense about my stupid horror movie decisions," he mumbled. "I think I just scared myself with an image." He ran towards a lone dumpster and clambered up some trashcans to balance himself on top of it. He looked up and saw the ladder of a fire escape hanging down.  
  
Stacey entered the alley, growling and spotting him right away.  
  
Xander jumped up once, almost grabbing the bottom rung. Almost. He landed back on the dumpster but nearly lost his balance. "Come on," he told himself. He bent his knees more just as Stacey tore towards the dumpster. He willed himself to jump a foot higher and he managed to grip the bottom rung. He began to pull himself up, but Stacey's jaws nipped at his foot. "Stacey, this isn't actually a second date activity," he said, nervously. He kicked at her snout, making her yelp. "Is this what Willow had to go through during those nights? Do I even want to know?"  
  
The kick only angered Stacey more, and she made for another try, grabbing his entire foot in her mouth and pulling him down.  
  
"AHHH!" Xander cried as he hit the dumpster then landed on a couple of stinky trash bags. The wind was knocked out of him, but he felt the claws on his clothes, piercing through the material onto his skin. He struggled with the powerful paws, fully aware it was her jaws he should fear. "Stacey! Come on! It's-it's me, Xander!"  
  
He heard another snarl, but it wasn't a dog-like one. It sounded more like a really, really pissed off human. Soon, Stacey found herself being pulled back by her tail off of Xander. Her claw went into his jeans, trying to find ground to keep her from being pulled back. All it did was drag her claws into Xander's jeans, nearly into his actual leg.  
  
But the wolf was thrown off of him entirely, then hit the wall with a thud.  
  
"Hold her off!" came a man's voice.  
  
Xander cleared his head and looked to see what exactly was happening. He was glad to see Faith taking care of Stacey - in the way Faith always took care of things. A punch that could be heard a block out erupted, and the she-wolf yelped again in pain. She rolled once before returning to all fours. But Faith was on her, roundhouse kicking Stacey in the temple.  
  
Stacey fell onto her side and stayed that way a moment. In that moment, Faith was on top of her along with a large, muscular guy. Both straddled the wolf, Faith keeping the more powerful jaws and front paws at bay with the man keeping the hind legs as still as possible.  
  
A man in a wheelchair pulled up to them and began chanting some words, sprinkling something over Stacey's head area. She buckled and tried to get away. She succeeded in throwing Faith off with the whip of both paws and head, giving her a burst of strength to knock the other guy off.  
  
Faith landed hard against the brick wall and onto the pavement nearest to Xander, grunting in pain. She tried to get up fast, but not before Stacey regained everything, her eyes set on Faith. She began to charge at her, jaws open.  
  
The man in the wheelchair continued to chant, trying to keep it going.  
  
Xander rushed at Faith and tackled her to the ground just as the wolf leapt up. Missing both humans within millimeters, the she-wolf smacked into the brick wall, knocking herself out. She landed limply against the wall as the man in the wheelchair finished off the chant, bowed his head, and allowed a glow to flow through Stacey. Her wolf form shuttered once before returning to its human naked form.  
  
Xander looked over to the still figure, his arms still around the Slayer. He turned to see if Faith was okay, only to come inches within her face. Their eyes met, and Xander's heart jumped in his throat. The urge to kiss her was so strong, but instead he said, quietly, "I have the worst time with women."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Brandon loaded Stacey into the van, a blanket around her to hide her nudity. He shut the back doors and joined the three at the side of the van.  
  
Faith stood there, arms crossed staring at the van. Her head was still ringing from before, but other than that, she was good. "What are you gonna do with her?" she asked.  
  
"Get her help," Paul answered, staring up at Faith. "She had a power she abused. She went out there and learned to abuse it. She's not ready for society."  
  
The statement hit Faith to the core of her soul. The situation so familiar, she actually felt a chill run up her spine. Then a warm hand seemed to have sensed it and rested assuringly on her shoulder.  
  
"She'll make it," Xander said, not looking at Faith, but at the van that held Stacey. He gave Faith's shoulder a squeeze, however. "Where are you taking her?"  
  
"I know a few friends who might be able to help her out." He nodded towards the van. "Would you two like a ride?"  
  
"I need to get work," Xander said, thumbing down the street. "I'm 10 minutes late as it is."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay to do so?" Paul asked. He noted the ripped jeans and shirt. "Maybe you should take the night off."  
  
"On my second day? I'll be okay."  
  
Paul nodded, looking over at Faith who had suddenly grown quiet. "Faith, thank you for helping me. Are we off on a foot yet?" She looked at Paul with knitted brows then relaxed them. "Yeah. I guess. Might even be the right one. Thanks yourself. Both of you."  
  
"Hell of a fight you got in you," Brandon said with a smile. "Don't want to be crossing your path anytime soon."  
  
Paul smiled. "Well, I'll offer you this: you can come to me anytime you need. We seem to be on the same side of the fight, as strange as the fight may be. Maybe we can learn from each other."  
  
"I don't know what I can teach you," Faith said. "But yeah, okay, thanks for the offer."  
  
Both of them watched as Paul and Brandon took off down the street.  
  
Xander sighed when the van's taillights disappeared. "And the luck of bad love just keeps on comin'."  
  
"You loved her?" Faith asked, looking up at him.  
  
Xander faced her, surprised she asked. "Well. no. I guess it's for the best though." They began walking towards the bar. "I probably wouldn't be able to get past the whole 'not shaving her legs' thing."  
  
Faith snickered, shaking her head in hopelessness. "Dude, I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do with you." Truthfully, she knew a little of what she did want to do. what she always was ready for after a fight. This time, however, she held back. No sudden moves. No deep kisses. No throwing him into the nearest bed. Just planning to walk the fight off instead.  
  
Because for now, she just wanted to see what was next, if anything.  
  
"Well, when you do find out, make sure it involves a self-installed swing, okay?"  
  
Faith laughed as they strolled down the sidewalk, both limping a bit, both hurting from the fight, but both not caring.  
  
-END- 


End file.
